


The Rain and You and Me

by Bonbonbourbon



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-08
Updated: 2017-10-08
Packaged: 2019-01-10 15:37:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12302223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bonbonbourbon/pseuds/Bonbonbourbon
Summary: Fareeha and Angela spend a night in a lodge as a bad storm passes through.It ends up being a pretty nice time.





	The Rain and You and Me

**Author's Note:**

  * For [budgiebum](https://archiveofourown.org/users/budgiebum/gifts).



> Prompt: Fareeha and Angela get stuck when a real bad storm comes through. Cuddles, feelings and wondering if they’ll ever see the team again. Lol, something like that.

A thunderous flood came crackling down from darkened skies.

She would be hard-pressed to believe that a short while ago (if she wasn’t there to bear actual witness to it) the sun had been out, the birds were singing and the winds only kissed along the air, gently lifting at best and nothing more. Now the wind was howling, raging through the trees and shrubbery, carrying a cacophony of banshee cries from frenzied birds scrambling to find shelter under wet leaves.

A trip out would be fun, Fareeha’s father had said, a smile not unsimilar to Fareeha’s on his face.

Sweet and full of faith.

Angela trusted him and that familiar warmth that sparkled in his deep set eyes.

She flinched when a flash of light blazed in the corner of her eye. Instinctively Angela hunched, anticipating the boom that would soon follow. When the sound of lightning splitting the sky did catch up, it was a powerful, monstrous thing. Her stomach clenched. Scientifically, she knows the sound comes from above, ripping near the clouds, but she swears it had clapped right next to the shell of her ear.

The forests of the Pacific Northwest are beautiful, he had said.

A thing of nature, he had remarked with a chuckle.

You won’t regret it, he had promised.

Right. Then what was this feeling that she was feeling right now?

Angela shivered.

It was cold and the arms she raised up to the heavens did nothing to help stave off water from her face. The rain pelted her body brutally, her cheeks not spared from the onslaught and rivulets of water ran down her brow straight into her eyes, obscuring her vision. She squinted and blinked, concentrating on keeping her eyes trained on the woman in front of her.

Fareeha was making good progress despite the forces of nature, quickly leading them…

Well, somewhere.

She hoped Fareeha had a destination. One that would get them out of the rain soon.

For Angela was becoming winded.

Her bag was starting to feel weighty on her spine, pulling at her shoulders by the straps like heavy ropes. Heavier and heavier it felt, slowly accumulating water in its stitched fabric from the downpour from above. Travelling was becoming a tiring thing and the slick mud of the ground below was not helping. Every step she took felt like she was lifting her legs from wet and slippery concrete, her boots covered in brown wet clumps that seemed to gain mass with each stride.

All in all, she was finding it increasingly difficult to keep up with Fareeha.

“Fareeha!” She yelled out, not one bit surprised when the woman didn’t turn.

She could barely hear herself either amidst all the noise.

Angela huffed and moved faster, body twisting and turning to avoid wayward branches and other twigs and bits of nature that had become one with the wind and rain, flying all over as tiny annoyances and hindrances as she tried to close the distance between herself and Fareeha.

She sputtered as a leaf landed smack dab onto her mouth, wiping it with a haphazard hand.

“Fareeha!” She called again, voice cracking from the loud register she used to try and beat the screaming winds.

(Yet still her voice sounded so _small_ )

Fareeha again, did not heed her call.

Angela lunged forward (almost slipping from her fervor) and grabbed at the sleeve of the woman’s elbow as a last ditch effort to gain the woman’s attention. The tactic worked. Fareeha halted, boots skidding on mud as she turned towards her.

“We’re not lost are we?!” Another thunder strike flashed above them. She winced. “We need to find shelter!”

“We’re not lost and I know!” Fareeha yelled. She grabbed Angela’s hand, interlocking their fingers. “The rain’s getting worse so come on!”

They stumbled together forward on the wet ground.

“Fareeha! We can’t run without reason!”

“We’re not!” She pointed into the distance with a jut of her chin. “Lodge!”

Angela looked, squinting her eyes.

There in the distance, true to Fareeha’s word, a lodge. Invigorated by the sight, Angela picked up speed, overtaking Fareeha’s stride to lead the way. She was the one now pulling the other woman along with a tight grip on her hand.

Hopefully, whoever lived there would be willing to house two foolish explorers.

\------------------------

The cabin was an old thing and not as well-cared for as it should have been.

At least no longer.

The lodge creaked and groaned from the winds that battered the wooden logs that made its walls. The roof rattled like it would collapse at any moment, bending at the beams. Slivers and strains of wind leaked through from small gaps and holes that came with an aging house. To top it off, the inside of the cabin was a few centigrade colder than she would have appreciated.

But at least it was dry.

A few steps inside Angela had immediately dropped to the floor, catching her breath while sitting flat on her ass, bag discarded from her shoulders to the side of her. Dropped with an unceremonious thud onto the floor. She brushed wet bangs from her face, before pulling her hair tie out and snapping it around her wrist.

Angela massaged at her shoulders, at where the straps of her bag had dug into her flesh.

Fareeha’s muddied boots were busy digging into the ground as she pushed and pushed the door, fighting against the strong winds to shut it. When she succeeded, slamming the door shut with a war cry, the world became deadly silent. The rain and the thunder outside was quickly muted by barriers of thick logs. Lightning flashed into her sight only through the square-windows that lined the walls of this tiny lodge, the dangerous edge seeming so far as the thunderclaps became but small clicks in the background.

Fareeha released a shuddering breath, one that sounded like relief. She pulled at the sliding lock to effectively secure the door and then sunk to her knees. She looked over her shoulder at her.

“That wasn’t so hard, now was it?” Fareeha panted out, words broken by gasps that told quite a different story. A twinkle of amusement was visible in her dark eyes. Her udjat was crinkling from a faint tug of the lips. “What a day, huh?”

Angela simply stared back unamused.

Her lips pressed into a thin line.

Disregarding the effort she just witnessed Fareeha use to shut the door, it had taken three tries to open said door in the first place (and that was after a good minute of banging on it from the wrong presumption that someone still lived in the place). They had quickly figured out the place was abandoned once they saw peeked through the windowpane and saw the withered state of the furniture inside.

“Three tries to open, Fareeha.” She raised three fingers up. “Three.”

At first, they fumbled with the door, ramming the wood with their shoulders when the door simply wouldn’t budge. Then (realizing there was a padded lock keeping the place sealed off) Fareeha had pathetically tried to jimmy it with bent-out hairpins she pulled from the side-pocket of her bag. Needless to say, this tactic did not work out so well.

The third attempt was the kicker.

Literally.

Angela had taken over, pushing Fareeha roughly off to the side to work her magic. And by magic, she meant taking a few steps back to get a running start to effectively kick down the door open. Her foot slammed at the door hinge and the door went swinging open. She was usually never so aggressive, but the cold of the downpour spurred her into action, causing her teeth to clatter and her patience to drop to an all-time low.

“I thought your father was a forest ranger.” The only thing about Angela that was dry right now was her tone. The wet cold had sunk to the marrow of her bones. Head to toe she was drenched. She crossed her arms, clothes squelching and squeezing out excess water as she did so. It felt disgusting and she shuddered accordingly. “How could he suggest going out into the forest when today a torrential rain would come blustering through?”

At that, the faint smile on Fareeha’s face turned sheepish.

She hemmed and hawed for a moment as turned to face Angela completely, resting her back on the frame of the door as she sat. Her fingers went to work untying her boots, slowly pulling at the brown laces.

“It was supposed to be only light showers at best. Intermittent.” She explained as she successfully pried off a boot, letting it fall carelessly to the side. She started to untie her other boot and Angela sought the opportunity to do the same, fingers picking at her own laces. “But sometimes…”

“Sometimes?” Angela repeated, not letting Fareeha off the hook with that trailed off half-assed statement. Fareeha tossed her other boot aside and leaned back on the door. Angela set her boots to the side and peeled off her dripping socks.

Fareeha shrugged.

“What can I say? Mother Nature can be a fickle thing. Sometimes she just goes crazy.”

Angela huffed.

“I’m wet, Fareeha.” She said flatly. “This is all your fault.”

Fareeha chuckled softly.

“Are you now?”

“ _Fareeha._ ” She said lowly, forcing her teeth not to chatter. She was _not_ in the mood for any tongue-in-cheek jests of that sort. Of any sort, really. “This isn’t funny, I’m all wet and-”

She sneezed and hugged herself further.

“I’m cold.” She finished with a sniffle.

She turned to her bag, frowning as she saw how much darker the wood became around the bag from soaking up water. She huffed. She just bought that backpack too, now it was ruined like the clothes on her back. The chill going up and down her body an unpleasant reminder of the drenched state she was in.

“Take off your clothes.”

“Fareeha.” She chided tiredly, shutting her eyes and pinching the bridge of her nose. She took a deep breath. “I said no more jokes.”

Arms tucked under her knees and easily hoisted her up. She yelped, eyes snapping open at the sudden movement. Her hands flailed, grabbing onto whatever she could to keep herself from falling. What she ended up grabbing to steady herself turned out to be Fareeha’s shoulders.

“F-Fareeha?”

“I wasn’t joking.” Fareeha muttered. Angela looked up inquiringly at Fareeha’s face. All forms of levity was gone from her face. She looked like a woman on a mission. “You’re going to catch a cold if you stay in those wet clothes. You’re already sneezing.”

She settled her down gently by the unlit fireplace before rising to run to get both their bags.

“Strip, Angela. I’ll get the fire going.” She called out as she rummaged through the bags. “You did place your clothes in the middle compartment, right? It should be okay if it’s there. That’s the waterproof section.”

Angela pursed her lips.

“I did. Underwear is in front pocket though, in Ziploc bags.” She commented as she pulled off her shirt from her body. The fabric clung onto her skin desperately and it felt gross as it slid across her body. She started to unzip her pants and shimmy out of it, the damp weight of the fabric making it more difficult to get out of then it should have been. “And I can help, by the way, with starting the fire. I know a thing or two as well about starting fireplaces.”

She did it all the time back in Switzerland during the wintertime.

“No.” Fareeha responded flatly. The tone of her voice left no room for discussion. She placed a few articles of clothing and a small towel beside her. “Here, towel off and put these on. I’ll get this damn fire going in the meantime.”

Angela stared at Fareeha’s turned back as she started to throw the top row of the stack of logs beside the fireplace into the chamber.

“Thank you.” She mumbled and proceeded to pull the rest of her clothes off and toweled herself off after quickly. As the first embers started to kindle in the fireplace, Angela put on a clean bra and panties and felt somewhat fresher already. She then slipped on the sleeping shirt and shorts. “You should change too.”

“I will.” Fareeha said as she poked at the fire, waiting for the flames to burn brighter. “After I get this done.”

Angela was going to make a remark when a sneeze overtook her again.

She rubbed at her nose.

Fareeha made a noise at that. She turned and without leaving her post, reached over to grab a plaid fringed blanket from her backpack. With a flourish she wrapped it over Angela’s shoulders tenderly, a pensive frown on her face and something unreadably somber in her eyes.

Angela stared back, brows furrowed.

“Fareeha?” She inquired softly. “Is everything alright?”

Lightning crackled outside, illuminating them both in white for a moment.

The frown on Fareeha’s face deepened.

Her dark eyes seemed to grow sadder.

“I’m sorry.” Fareeha whispered, eyes shifting to stare at the ground. Guilt layered her voice in a way that made Angela’s heart constrict and any vestiges of anger from being wet disappear completely. “We should’ve just went to the museums like you originally wanted. I’m so stupid.”

Angela sat up straighter.

“You’re not stupid. You’re not.” She grabbed Fareeha’s face, forcing the woman to look back up at her. She caressed her cheeks and stared at her meaningfully. “Like you said, Mother Nature can be a fickle thing. It’s not your fault.”

Fareeha chuckled feebly.

“Sure, Angela.”

Angela frowned.

“I’m serious.”

Fareeha pursed her lips and then sent out a sad, disbelieving smile.

“… Right. Anyway, I’m going to change as well.” She rose up and removed her hands from her cheeks, pressing a reassuring kiss to her knuckles before releasing and walking away. “Give me a moment.”

\------------------------

She couldn’t look at Angela.

Fareeha kept her gaze trained on the fire before her as she undid her pants and threw it on a coat hanger she had dragged here from the corner of the room. A coat hanger that already had Angela’s clothes hung on them as well, courtesy of her efforts. Something she had done earlier, after she took off her shirt and before she unclipped her bra.

They would dry faster near the fire.

She pulled a thick jumper over her head and pulled up boxer shorts over her underwear.

A warm body pressed into her back when she finished changing and Fareeha felt her heart lodge in her throat. Shame still shot through her soul. A shame not even the hot breath that murmured sweet nothings right between the spaces of her shoulder blades could stifle.

The comforting hug that wrapped around her waist also felt wrong to her.

“Fareehali.” Angela cooed, shifting to plant a gentle kiss on her shoulder. Fareeha felt herself plummet further. “Are you still sad? Don’t be.”

She brought up her hands to lay over Angela’s, whose hands still laid around her waist, threading her fingers through hers. The woman hugged her tighter from behind, nosing into the thick of her jumper again. Fareeha worked her jaw and stared harder into the fire, into the flickering flames.

“I messed up, though.”

“Did you?” Angela hummed out, giving her a proper squeeze. “I can’t seem to recall.”

Fareeha tilted her head up, stared at the ceiling and let out a withering sigh. The woman forgave her far too easily sometimes. She had messed up and that was that. Fareeha gathered her strength and turned around in Angela’s arms, prying the tight grip looser a fraction to do so.

“Angela, it is okay to be mad at me… a while…" Her mouth became dry. She cleared her throat. She finished her sentence. "...Longer.”

She was sure she gave Angela clothes.

She was also sure Angela had used said clothes she offered.

“Um, why are you in your underwear?”

She was impressed by the calm quality of her words, when her heart was anything but, hammering and rattling in the cage of her ribs. It had only squeaked right at the end. She felt warm beyond warm as she ogled Angela. It was rude of her to gape at Angela so obviously, drinking in the sight of her pale skin and the stretchmarks that riddled her thighs with such an unabashed stare, but she cannot seem pry her eyes away. Closing her open jaw was already an incredible feat in itself.

Angela’s only response to her blatant staring was to laugh, a cheeky smile bracing her features.

“Would you prefer I wear nothing at all?”

“I- uh… That’s not what I…” She trailed off. “H-huh?”

Her brain short-circuited as Angela tightened her grip once more around her waist, bringing their bodies together, pulling her by the hem of her jumper as she took a step forward. She was now keenly aware of Angela’s breasts pressing onto her own in nothing but lingerie. Keenly aware of Angela drawing her in for a kiss, the sideward tilt of the head so their noses would not bump. Keenly aware of how easily she relented and reveled in the feel of soft lips she knew so well pressing against hers. Her own arms found their way to rest on Angela’s wide hips on instinct, thumb lightly pressing into the dip of her hipbone.

When they parted, Fareeha was as star-struck and as confused as ever.

“What…” She shook her head, eyes fluttering shut for another moment when Angela pressed yet another kiss to her lips. She licked her lips again when they parted. “…What is going on?”

Angela didn’t answer.

Instead she wordlessly guided them to the couch, pulling Fareeha on top of her. Fareeha’s hands immediately shot out, resting her elbows on either side of the woman to stop herself from crushing Angela with all her weight. Angela’s hands raised and Fareeha was captivated. One travelled south to pull at the hem of her shirt as traced her neck down to her collar, pulling her closer from there. Fareeha gave into her coaxing all too easily, dipping down further, letting Angela pepper kisses all over her face and then neck. Fareeha shivered and giggles spurted out of her as Angela would occasionally hum into the space right below the shell of her ear.

“Ya amar!” She giggled out, a wild curious grin appearing on her face as Angela continued her onslaught. Somehow the woman seemed revitalized by her outcry and redoubled her efforts. The hand that pulled at her hem now teasingly scratching her skin, at her most ticklish spots. “Stop! Please!”

“Don’t feel like it.”

She squirmed and then lifted herself higher to get out Angela’s grasp.

The woman pulled at her collar once more, with both hands this time, the other hand relinquishing its hold at the bottom of her shirt to help.

They were now nose to nose.

“Don’t you run now. You can’t make a girl all wet, tell her to strip, and then leave her hanging.” She crashed their lips together and gave her a long and slow languid kiss. Angela had the most victorious of smirks etched on her face when they parted. She, was simply breathing heavily, still dumbstruck. “Just who do you think you are, Fareeha Amari?”

Fareeha blinked. Angela winked.

She started to laugh, complete with shakes of her head, at the absurdity of the situation once she got her bearings.

“W-what?” She finally got out between chuckles. “I _told_ you to wear clothes again and I _gave_ you said clothes to wear.” Fareeha pressed her cheek into the side of the couch, where Angela’s clothes hung discarded. The clothes she distinctly remembered giving to Angela, that Angela wore and that Angela must have taken off at some point when she herself was changing into dry clothes. She grinned at the woman under her wildly, pumping her brows twice. “What are _you_ talking about?”

Angela’s eyes crinkled and flipped them around.

Well, more like Fareeha let the smaller woman switch their positions. She was still stronger than her and a little bit of rain couldn’t change that fact. In any case though, Angela was now on top and looming over her, straddling her with bare thighs. She pulled her discarded shirt from the top of the back cushions of the couch and slipped it back on, running a hand through her mussed up locks after her head popped out through the collar. Angela tucked remaining wayward strands of hair behind her ears with one hand as the other moved to smooth Fareeha’s own hair away from her face.

An action that allowed her to see Fareeha unobstructed and vice-versa.

Fareeha smiled curiously up at Angela, waiting to see what she would do next and what her game was.

“There she is. There’s my Fareeha.” She crooned, love lacing her tone. “There’s the smile I love.”

Fareeha groaned and covered her face with her arms, finally comprehending the reason behind the strange set of actions.

Her cheeks burned.

“Angela, that’s not fair.” She protested from behind the safety of her forearms, cursing herself from not being able to contain the giddiness in her. The smile on her face as wide as it was and not slipping a fraction. The fuzzy feelings in her stomach not dissipating the slightest. “You should be mad at me.”

And she should be feeling guilty right now, not as happy as a kite.

“But I’m not.” Angela said from above her and when Fareeha ganders a peek from behind her arms, she saw not an ounce of deception or lie in Angela’s eyes and felt herself melt further. “I love you, schatzeli.”

“…I love you too." She murmured back quietly, thick with emotion. "So, so much.”

“And how much is that, Fareehali?”

Fareeha stared at Angela, at the lines on her face and the blue of her eyes. Her wayward bangs and the soft pink of her lips. Angela has a tender look on her face and she knows she must mirror that look back just the same. She shrugged, one hand moving to rest on Angela’s bare thigh. Her fingers started to trail up, riding up to trace over her stretch marks, enjoying the feel of the ridges.

“I’m still trying to figure that out.” She confessed with a shy smile. “All I know is that I fall for you a little more, every single day.”

"You think so?"

"No. I know so."

Angela bloomed at her admission, a beautiful smile curling on her lips that made her whole being seem to shine. Shine so radiantly that Fareeha could do nothing but smile goofily back, all other thoughts momentarily banished from her skull.

She wondered how she got so lucky.

“…So what now?” She asked aloud after a minute or two, while silently enjoying the weight of having Angela still sit on top of her. She glanced at the window. The rain continued to beat on the windowpanes like bullets. “Storm doesn’t look like it’s letting up anytime soon.”

Angela smiled teasingly.

“I didn’t think you were a quitter, Fareehali.” She jested lightly with a wink. “Just because it’s raining, it doesn’t mean we can’t go do all the things we were going to do.”

Fareeha quirked a brow.

“Oh? And how you suppose we do that?”

Angela smile turned positively coquettish as she traced her jawline.

“We have a fireplace, don’t we?”

Angela got off her and Fareeha missed the warmth of her thighs and the weight of the woman on her stomach immediately. Angela tilted her head at her with the coyest of smiles etched on her face, hands interlaced behind her back. She glowed beautifully from the light of the fireplace, features soft.

“Why don’t we start with some good old marshmallow roasting? As you like to say.”

Fareeha perked up.

She sat up quickly, pushing on the sofa cushions with an elbow and rolled off the couch. Angela giggled at her sudden hyper movements and the excitement she couldn’t contain.

She didn’t care though.

Perhaps this trip was not going to be a dud after all.

\------------------------

Fareeha sat cross-legged on the floor with her back to the couch, hugging a sofa cushion to her body. She curled into it, burying the lower half of her jaw into the plush cotton. Her words came out muffled, but the disappointment was all the same.

“You tricked me.”

Angela laughed, a rush of staccato breaths that echoed around the room.

“We will have s’mores and marshmallows, but first we must have a proper meal.” Angela dictated matter-of-factly, not bothering to turn around. “If we don’t eat an actual meal, we’ll wake up hungry later. Or worse, too tired to move tomorrow and we must make our way back.”

Fareeha took the opportunity to drag herself closer, leaning down onto the floor on her side, cushion still clutched in her arms. She laid beside Angela, staring up at her and the light concentration around the corners of her jaw as she stirred a pot of pre-made Swedish meatballs smothered in gravy. Torbjorn’s wife’s recipe and the only meal with more than four ingredients that Angela could prepare decently well. Angela paused to drip a bit of the gravy onto the back of her hand, tasting it.

“How is it?”

Angela shot her a half-smile.

“A few more minutes then we can eat.”

Fareeha nodded then grumbled again, still unsatisfied with the turn of events.

“And then we can eat some s’mores?” She asked meaningfully, eyes peeking from the top of the hugged cushion. She gave her best puppy eyes. A childish display she only did in private in front of Angela. It usually worked really well. “Promise?”

Angela giggled.

“I promise, I promise.” Angela reiterated as she opened two plastic containers filled with pre-cooked bowtie pasta. “You and your sweet-tooth are impossible.”

Fareeha simply shrugged, not denying any of it. It was true that she had a sweet-tooth. However, it wasn’t the whole truth and reason for her exuberance to roast a few marshmallow squares. Fareeha hugged the cushion tighter to her body.

Her girlfriend was brilliant. Absolutely brilliant.

(And no, she wasn’t biased – Angela had the accolades and awards to prove it in her office)

She is mature and wonderful and responsible. Now and since before, way back when she first met the woman for that one brief moment during a photo-op on Overwatch grounds all those years ago. She was a child and so was Angela to be honest, and yet Angela was so much further in life. So adult at the shy age of 17 and extremely brilliant, diligent and capable to boot.

A prodigy in her own right.

One who was forced to grow up too fast, both from forces beyond her control and her own dreams. Her bull-headed desire to save the world was both her greatest strength and her biggest downfall (it was hers too in some ways, but that was a thought for another time).

Angela tucked a hair behind her ear and Fareeha briefly smiled at that little idiosyncrasy of hers.

The woman had spent her younger years researching studiously, acting older than she really was to not be denied opportunities she had the skills of being part of. She excelled, saved more than a dozen lives with new discoveries in medicine, and became the darling of Swtizerland.

But at the cost of never truly living like other teenagers often do.

And time waited for no one, not even one as precious as Angela.

Time whizzed by and suddenly she had become a true-blue adult and a highly responsible one at that with a load of extremely important duties. The sort of adult that did not have time to indulge in childish tendencies that others had time too, unfortunately.

(Angela did not achieve the title of ‘mother hen’ of their ragtag Overwatch family for nothing)

So Fareeha felt like she could do with eating a s’more and engaging in sillier activities. Enjoy a campfire experience Fareeha knows the woman never got too, though perhaps dreamed of doing from time to time. That kind of campfire experience many people often savored and thought back to with nostalgia. The kind that involved the exchange of random stories and falling into laughter while chewing sticky marshmallows that may burn the roof of their mouth if they popped in into their mouths too fast after being held to the fire.

Be the child she never got to be, the child she stopped being, the child she refused to be any longer once her parents died.

Fareeha thinks it would be good for her.

And marshmallows were never a bad idea.

\------------------------

The rain continued to bang on the side of the house, shaking the roof and pelting the glass windows, enveloping them from all corners with a faint hum of white noise. Noises that failed to eclipse the crackling of the burning wood from the fireplace nor rip her attention from the marshmallows she had skewered on a stick and was roasting. Fareeha held the stick firmly with both hands in front of her, in a manner not unlike a fisherman holding a fishing pole.

The concentration levels on her face on par with one as well.

Her fingers slowly rotated the stick, letting the fires roast the marshmallow evenly, coating the fluffy white with a nice sugared brown as the marshmallow puffed and puffed into a larger size.

“It’s going well.” She remarked proudly. “Wait, hold on.”

Fareeha carefully adjusted, relinquishing hold of the stick with one hand to pull at the blanket that draped over her. It had been slipping slowly down from her shoulder. Angela adjusted in front of her as she worked, her blonde hair tickling Fareeha’s neck somewhat as she shimmied into a more comfortable position.

“I didn’t know marshmallow roasting was such a serious pastime.” Angela commented off-handedly and though Fareeha cannot see her face from this angle, she can sense the smile etched on her lips all the same. “It’s a good thing you are the one roasting them. It seems years of practice is needed to perfect such an art.”

Amusement drenched Angela’s words. The woman nestled further in her arms, back pressed to her front, her ass planted firmly between Fareeha’s loosely crossed legs. She held the package of graham crackers and a chocolate bar hostage in her hands and Fareeha stole a quick moment to take her eyes off the prize to press a quick kiss to Angela’s temple.

“Hush now.” She whispered directly into her hair, tickling Angela with her breath. “The perfect marshmallow needs a watchful eye.”

Too close to the fire and it will burn.

Too far from the fire and they would get nowhere.

Angela tried to smother her giggles with a bite to her lip. She then turned to press a return kiss back, to the junction where Fareeha’s jaw met her neck, in the space right beneath her earlobe. Pleasant shivers coursed through Fareeha from the spur on the moment action.

“Silly girl.” Affection tinged her quiet murmur, “What would I do without you?”

Fareeha blew air out dramatically.

“End up with burnt marshmallows. That’s what.”

A rumbling laugh escaped her as Angela swatted her and squirmed in her arms obnoxiously.

“That’s it. I’m stealing another one of your shirts.”

“Not even a threat, ya amar.” She said airily, eyes focused on the marshmallows in front of her. They were sure to be done soon. “You stealing another one of my shirts to sleep in is an inevitability I had long accepted since ages ago.”

She pulled the marshmallows out of the fire, now coated in a toasted brown shell.

“Time to s’more up.” She said lightly, handing the stick to Angela. She watched, heart warm, as Angela carefully sandwiched the marshmallows between graham crackers and a square of chocolate with a surgeon’s precision. Trying her best to make two perfect s’mores. Another laugh bubbled out of her as panic flooded Angela’s eyes from putting too much pressure. The marshmallow oozed out from the sides of the sandwich, threatening to drip onto fingertips. “Eat up or get sticky fingers, habibti.”

She raised the s’more to Fareeha’s lips instead.

“Take the first bite, chef.”

With a wolfish smile she took a dramatically large bite and flipped the whole s’more into her mouth, prying it out of Angela’s hands with a tilt of her head up. The whole thing went in.

“Delicious.” She tried to get out, but her mouth was full and full of sticky marshmallow and a chocolate mess. It came out instead as ‘de’shoosh’ and Fareeha prided herself on the adoration reflected in Angela’s eyes. She chewed some more and swallowed. “I think I did a good job. Go try a bite of yours.”

Angela stared at her own s’more for a moment or two, cautiously peering at the sweet treat.

“It won’t bite back, y’know.”

The woman huffed good-naturedly and then took a small, tentative bite. She struggled as strands of marshmallow proved to make it difficult to make for a clean bite, but Angela tried to do so none-the-less. She chewed slowly, features slowly brightening as she kept chewing.

“Good, huh?”

Angela took another bite, eyes crinkling.

“It is de’shoosh.” She said teasingly, mimicking her muffled out words from just seconds prior. She pressed her fingers together and scrunched her face. She extended forwards to grab a moist towelette packet. “Messy to eat though.”

“Most people lick their fingers clean.”

“That’s highly unsanitary, Fareeha.” Angela chided, ripping the packet open and wiping her fingers clean. She threw discarded the moist towelette and wrapper into the trash bag. “But I do admit the offer was tempting. There is something about s’mores, though they’re hardly good for you.”

“They’re good for the soul.” She countered then waggled her brows, coming in close. Angela turned on her side to face her. At the sight of an open smile, Fareeha tried her luck. “And better still when the marshmallows are roasted well. Kiss the cook?”

Angela touched her jaw and leaned in, stopping short of letting their lips touch.

“I would hardly call roasting marshmallows cooking.” She husked out.

Fareeha raised a brow. “Kiss me anyways?”

Angela let out a small airy giggle. Her hand travelled to loosely grip the back of her neck, fingers lightly raking right below her hairline. She leaned in, their lips ghosting. She paused for a second or two, teasing Fareeha with the almost touch until she let out a small whimper. And then, she closed the distance.

Fareeha’s eyes fluttered shut.

They kissed unhurriedly and as time went by Fareeha pushed her tongue against Angela’s teeth, begging for entrance. When she received it, Fareeha tasted the sweet of marshmallow and the sugar of chocolate. She licked her lips when they parted.

“Gooey.” She said with a dumb grin. “Can I have s’more?”

“Of course, we just started eating s’mores. We still have a whole bag full-”

“I meant s’more sugar, habibti.”

Angela stopped in her tracks and stared at her. Fareeha waggled her brows and tried to capture her lips again only to be stopped by a palm slapping onto her mouth and pushing her away.

“Fareeha!” Angela laughed out, admonishing grin on her face not effective in the least. “Your puns are going to be the death of me!”

She pulled Angela’s hand away from her mouth.

“Please,” She snuck a kiss, landing on the corner of Angela’s mouth as the sneaky woman turned her head away at the last moment. “I know you’re secretly into them.”

“I’m definitely taking one of your shirts now. Maybe this one right here.” She said haughtily as she pulled at the jumper she wore. A frown gradually took over Angela’s face as she truly looked at the design of her jumper. She caressed the front of the jumper, picking at the design with her fingers. “Why do you have a sweater that has a picture of a… what is that? Skillet of sliced steak and peppers?”

“I got it when I was with Jesse three months ago.”

Angela stared up at her curiously, turning to set her legs on either side of her hips so they sat face-to-face. Her bare legs straddling Fareeha on either side.

“That doesn’t answer my question. What is it?”

Fareeha pulled off the blanket that was draped over her shoulders to place it over Angela. She was wearing only a tee and she had a thick jumper on, after all. The woman before her needed it more. Angela gave her a small thank-you kiss on her nose as Fareeha fixed the blanket securely. She smiled lopsidedly back, tipping her head graciously in lieu of a ‘you’re welcome’ back then responded.

“It’s fajitas.” She answered honestly. “Steak fajitas to be exact.”

“But…” She wrinkled her nose. “Why?”

“There’s a story behind it actually. Me and Jesse were in his hometown. We ate at his favorite diner and this kid came up to us suddenly.” A young boy with the softest curls and thick lashes. His name was Manuel and he had turned fourteen a few days ago. “A fan of mine and he gave me this jumper that he specifically made in his father’s clothing shop.”

“And why fajitas?” Angela prodded as she hung her arms loosely across her shoulders. She cocked her head. “Is this a secret love of yours that I did not know about?”

“No.” Fareeha said with a shake of her head. “He just wanted to give me something I would appreciate,” She chuckled, once. “Based on a love of mine that I don’t hide at all, actually.”

“And what love is that?”

She pulled Angela closer by the hips, pressing their foreheads together. She stared at Angela with the most serious of gazes. Angela stared back, interest at its peak.

“Puns, habibti.” Her serious expression broke. “Fajita sounds awfully similar to Fareeha, doesn’t it?”

Angela looked utterly mortified.

“Fareeha your worst attributes are rubbing off on your fans.” She wriggled in Fareeha’s arms. “I take it back. I don’t want the shirt.”

“Too late, ya amar.” She teased, holding Angela close and securing her grip on the woman. She hummed the next words into her neck, deepening her register to sound conspiratorial. “The jumper has spoken to me. It tells me that you are its rightful owner. It cries out for you.”

“Sorry, but I must respectfully decline to wear it.”

Fareeha laughed at the half-struggling woman in her arms.

“It is too late, ya amar. The fabric is calling for you. It tells me that it is your destiny.”

“No. Let me go, Fareeha. I choose my own destiny! Reeha!” Angela yelled as Fareeha would not let go. Her eyes shined with mirth and glee and with another wriggle she wrenched herself free. She doubled back, crawling on her back away from her, a hand waving in front of her. “No, no, wait.” She snapped her fingers and pointed it victoriously at her. “There’s no way you’re serious. A fan gave that to you. You’re bluffing.”

She quirked a brow as she stalked closer on her knees and arms.

“Am I?”

She leapt and toppled on top of the woman.

“Fareeha!”

She cackled and starting to tickle the woman under her.

“Wait- Stop!” Angela cried out between laughs, attempting to grab her fiendish hands. “You’re such a child, Fareeha!”

She smiled goofily at the woman in her arms.

Perhaps.

But it doesn’t matter.

Angela was smiling and she was too, and that was all that really mattered.

\------------------------

The couch dipped under their combined weight. The odds lumps and bumps felt a little less noticeable now that they were tired. Angela was wedged between the couch back and Fareeha, and maybe a little bit on top of the woman as well, resting on the woman’s chest as their legs tangled up.

The couch was slightly too small for two.

She nuzzled into the crook of Fareeha’s neck. Her hands played idly with the soft cotton of her jumper, rumpling it and releasing. A sound almost like a mewl came out from the back of her throat as Fareeha pulled the blanket up higher, high enough for the bottom of her chin to be tucked under.

She curled in further.

Her girlfriend was warm and her frame, inviting.

The rain continued to hail outside and flashes of lightning leaked through the windows. Angela breathed in Fareeha’s scent and giggled as she traced over the print of a skillet full of fajitas on the front. It was barely visible now, the fire of the chimney dead and the darkness that permeated the room obscuring the sticker print. However, every now and then, with every flash of a lightning strike, she would see that cartoonish print and its obscene colors vividly.

“I can’t believe you chased me through the cabin trying to put this jumper on me.”

It wasn’t that she minded the concept of a shirtless Fareeha chasing her around. The strain of her abdominal muscles and the swell of her biceps as she ran trying to catch Angela and throw the shirt over her head was a sight she minded not one bit. What she did mind though, was that the cabin was cold and it would do no favors for Fareeha to be running around without a shirt on.

“You have nothing to say for yourself?” She mused as Fareeha failed to reply.

Fareeha chuckled once, the rumble of her voice thrumming against her ear as it rang in the deep of the chest Angela laid on. The arm she had around Angela tightened, the digits moving. Angela reveled in the feel of Fareeha’s fingers making small circles near her hip.

“It was a good workout.”

Angela breathed sharply through her nostrils.

“I think running in the rain was good enough of a workout.”

Fareeha turned slightly, shifting her way more as she nestled Angela better under the crook of her chin.

“If you want to talk about mean,” Fareeha started and Angela couldn’t _wait_ to see where she was going with this. She hooked their legs together, enjoying the feel of skin on skin, as Fareeha continued to speak. “I can’t believe _you_ threatened to start telling a few ghost stories dealing with abandoned cabins if I didn't stop chasing you.”

Angela snorted, hiding a smile that was forming on her face.

“Well it worked, didn't it?" She defended lightly. She hugged Fareeha tighter, burying her face into her chest. “And who told you to be such a little baby. Afraid of a few little stories of ghosts and ghouls.”

Fareeha groaned above her, dragging out the sound to make her laugh again.

“You wound me with your words, ya rouhi.” Thunder crackled outside. Fareeha hugged her tighter, petting her hair softly. “I'll have you know that the occult is serious business. You shouldn't mess with things that you don't understand.”

“Superstition.” Angela scoffed. “You don’t really believe do you?”

Fareeha kicked her legs lightly, hitting hers.

“I do, and you should too. Your whiteness is simply showing right now, not letting you see the light.”

Angela kicked back.

“Rude.”

They both then spurted into hushed giggles before silence took over them.

In the silence that stretched between them, Angela’s thoughts flitted to the Overwatch team. They had come out here as a group and she hoped they were not too worried with their sudden disappearance that wasn’t on schedule. Fareeha had assured her that her father would allay any fears they had. Apparently this was not the first time Fareeha had failed to come back down from a trip due to a heavy storm.

Her and her father would often set up camp and trek back down the next day.

With that said though, they did have to make it back home tomorrow before noon or else her father would send a search team.

Angela curled further into Fareeha, eyelids drooping from the rhythmic rush of rain outside.

She just wished that there was a way to tell their friends about what had happened however. They did attempt to call, but again, the storm was a bad one and as much as they tried they simply couldn’t gain a signal bar on their cellphones.

“Angela.” Fareeha rumbled out from above her in quiet tones. “Are you asleep?”

Angela shook her head.

“No. Not yet.”

She was, getting drowsy however. The pitter patter of rain and the warmth of Fareeha’s arms was making her sleepy. Fareeha made a noise and then pressed a kiss to Angela’s crown. Fareeha was still playing with her hair and the feel of her fingers on her scalp felt pleasant.

“You want to talk for a bit?”

Angela contemplated the question for a minute or two, then shook her head.

“No.” She yawned. “I think we should sleep.” Her words were starting to slur. The cracks of thunder seemed so far away. “A long day ahead of us tomorrow.”

Fareeha took a deep breath, moving Angela with the rise and fall of her chest.

“Alright. Goodnight, ya rouhi.”

She nodded.

“Goodnight, Fareehali.”

\------------------------

Angela cannot say for sure what she dreamt of that night.

Dreams are fickle things and often misremembered, bits and pieces gone and filled with fantasies and connections that the brain knows were not there in the first place.

However, Angela believes she had dreamt of Fareeha and her in the future.

She was almost sure of it.

Fareeha was older, with laugh lines around her mouth and crows’ feet around her eyes. Her hair was longer, tied into a ponytail of some sort with braids at the ends. Handsome, strapping, older and hers. The iron ring around her pinky glinted brilliantly beside a new ring. A simple gold band she wore on her ring finger. And when she reached out to the woman, Angela saw on her own outstretched hand, on her ring finger, a glint of gold. A gold band that seemed touchingly similar to the one on Fareeha’s.

She does not remember much of the dream other than that.

Where they were, what they were doing, how the scene was set up. Many holes and blanks in her mind, forgotten the moment she woke up. Yet as she stirred and pulled out of her dreams and gazed at Fareeha’s face, the woman snoring lightly in front of her, Angela felt a smile coming.

She does not remember much, but she remembers enough.

She wanted to grow old with Fareeha. She wanted to see her age and be there with her all along the way. They could reminisce on dated movies and moan about new aches and pains that came with aging. Turn on the radio and be equally befuddled with modern music. Make painstaking jokes, using memes and references incorrectly on purpose to grate on the younger generation of recruits in Overwatch.

Perhaps retire one day and find a small place just for them two.

She gently moved stray hairs from Fareeha’s face and pressed a soft kiss on her udjat, at the physical reminder of Fareeha’s promise to the world to protect them.

“You may be the world’s protector, schatzeli.” She whispered as Fareeha started to stir. “But I’m your guardian angel.”

And she will do everything in her power to ensure her dream becomes reality.

They would grow old together. They will be happy together.

She would make sure of it.

\------------------------

Fareeha stretched her arms wide as she breathed in deeply. The smell of the woods after a hard rain could not be replicated. It was absolutely refreshing. Invigorated her and her soul. She placed her hands on her hips and shifted her focus up at the big blue sky.

“Clear skies.”

She turned to Angela, backpack strapped on her bag, face refreshed, shoes laced up tight. She saluted the woman dramatically and Angela quirked her lips and saluted her back.

“Full hearts.”

She pulled out her map and double-checked her compass. She knew the way home. This would be easy. She pocketed her compass and offered a hand to Angela, who threaded her fingers through hers immediately.

“Can’t lose?”

Angela bumped her shoulder and squeezed their interlocking fingers.

“Can’t lose.” Angela affirmed, a determined glint settling into her eyes. “Let’s go. Together.”

Fareeha grinned.

“Together.”

And they were off, on the way back down the forest, back to home.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope its okay, budgiebum. :)


End file.
